Charmed
by TheSummerNightingale
Summary: 14 drabbles of Blaise Zabini / Blaise couldn't help it if he was so fascinating. It was just the way things were, like the way Scorpius Malfoy looked up to him, or the way Daphne liked to drag him on sporadic midnight rendezvous, or the way Hermione Granger captured him like no one else. It was just the way he was - charmed and charming. Rated T for language.
1. Scorpius Malfoy

**Written for Hogwarts 2-Week Drabble Wars: Blaise Zabini ;)**

 **Day One:** "Rule number one. Don't ever fall in love with a straight girl." _(Orange is the New Black)_

* * *

Blaise Zabini liked to visit Draco's place for two reasons: one, because Astoria was always lovely to him and fed him against Draco's cruel wishes. And two, because he loved to talk with little Scorpius Malfoy - who, consequently, _adored_ him.

The second Blaise stepped out of the fireplace on Thursday evening, he was greeted by Scorpius, who was waving a piece of parchment in the air. "Blaise!" he exclaimed, grinning. "I got my letter, I got it yesterday."

"Congrats, kid," Blaise said, reaching out to ruffle Scorpius's head, as he knew the blond boy hated.

"He's been driving us mad with excitement," said Astoria, stepping in from the kitchen as Scorpius ducked away from Blaise. "Draco said he's running late, by the way."

"No worries." He flashed a grin at her. "I've got to give Scor the talk, now that he's almost heading off to Hogwarts."

He heard Astoria snort and warn Scorpius, "Don't listen to a _thing_ Blaise tells you," before returning to the kitchen.

"So?" Scorpius demanded eagerly. "What is it?"

Blaise threw himself on the couch and winked. "I know there's one thing that your parents probably haven't told you about yet. They'd be hopeless about explaining this kind of thing anyway."

This made Scorpius lean in, clearly already fascinated. Blaise smirked and began, "Rule number one. Don't ever fall in love with a straight girl."


	2. Hermione Granger

**I am too excited about the Blaise/Hermione.**

 **Day Two:** "I was wondering what time I should pick you up tomorrow?" / "How about quarter to never?" _(The Vampire Diaries)_

* * *

It was very unfortunate that Blaise Zabini had to take an interest in the one person who would never, ever in his wildest dreams and her friskiest books (not that she was likely to have any) fancy him back.

Blaise sighed, swirling the champagne in his glass as he kept his eyes trained on a certain curly-haired brunette standing halfway across the ballroom. Normally these Ministry gala things bored him - Minister Shacklebolt had unfortunately banned any true alcoholic beverages after an incident one year that may or may not have involved Blaise himself - but this year cloaked him with a different feeling. One that intensified as the witch he was observing turned, made eye contact with him, and started heading his direction.

Blaise watched as she approached, her brown eyes appraising the empty glasses set on the counter beside him.

"Drinking again," Hermione Granger noted. "I thought Kingsley would have banned you from having more than one by now."

He tore his eyes away from her and smirked into his glass. "Want to know a secret? It's cider."

Granger laughed and leaned back against the counter like he was. Her head just barely reached his shoulders, and he caught a whiff of her light perfume.

"You know, I was wondering what time I should pick you up tomorrow." He couldn't suppress his smile as she turned on him, mouth parted.

"For what?"

"A date."

He could practically see the gears in her mind whirring, see the expressions flit across her face as she tried to decide whether he was kidding or not. She must have decided on the former, because she finally replied, rather wryly,

"How about a quarter to never?"

Blaise didn't miss a beat. "Always the charmer, aren't you?"

"As are you, Zabini."

She pushed herself off the counter and smiled at him. "Well, I suppose I'll see you, then. Tomorrow," she clarified at his blank look.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Dear me, are you taking me up on that offer after all?"

Hermione only rolled her eyes and snatched up a drink that matched his from the counter. "For work. But maybe afterwards -" She tilted her head back and gulped. In seconds, she sputtered and thrust the glass away from her, glaring at him through wide brown eyes.

" _Cider_? It's a miracle you're not drunk, Zabini!"

He simply raised his glass and winked. "Only on you, Granger."


	3. Vincent Crabbe

**Day Three:** "I'm not afraid of you." / "But you really, really should be." _(Once Upon a Time)_

* * *

The room was empty - a gesture of mercy from the Carrows. Or perhaps the twin professors knew that none of those Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws would care that a Slytherin was in detention, that it would not hurt them to see a Slytherin writhing on the floor like it would if he were one of their own.

Blaise sat in the chair kindly provided, his back straight as Vincent Crabbe towered over him. Two years ago, if someone had told him that someday Vincent would be far excelling him at something other than being Draco's bodyguard, Blaise would have flicked his wand at that person and called them delusional.

As it was, his wand had been stripped away minutes ago. So had his Slytherin tie, or anything he could use to fight back. It was detention, after all.

"You're in trouble," Vincent gloated, approaching Blaise with a dark gleam in his eye.

"I realize," Blaise said agreeably.

"If you just became one of us, this wouldn't happen." Vincent lifted his wand, but seemed to hesitate. He lowered his hand and continued, "You could change it by saying you want the Mark. Then this wouldn't happen."

Blaise pressed his sweating hands onto his thighs. "Get on with it, Vincent. I'm not afraid of you."

"But you really, really should be," Crabbe snarled, face contorting. Sparks flew from the tip of his wand. "I'm good at these detention things, Zabini. Don't sass me, or it'll be worse. You don't know how dangerous I am."

Blaise forced himself to keep staring at his fellow Slytherin. He had heard the stories of detentions, though he himself was going to be one of the very few Slytherins to actually experience it. He knew Crabbe was notorious for his lack of control over himself, so he really shouldn't have leaned forward. He really shouldn't have let a smirk cover the growing fear in his chest, and he really shouldn't have whispered tauntingly, "Then why waste time trying to convince me?"

The jagged red light flew at him. And even the room, empty of anything but the two boys and the chair, was not enough to hold the pain inside as he was thrown to the ground. Blaise screamed.


	4. Harry Potter

**I like to think that Blaise became an Auror after the war :) Something you'll probably see in all my Blaise fanfics**

 **Day Four:** "I am just like my mother. When she is upset, she cooks." _(Criminal Minds)_

* * *

It wasn't every day that Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world, the great Chosen One, asked if he could go home with you.

And fine, chances were that he'd only asked to go to Blaise's flat because he'd been kicked out of his own and it wasn't likely he'd be welcomed by any of his angry girlfriend's family clan and Blaise happened to be the last one in the Auror office whom Potter knew at the time. Chances were more than likely that Potter simply needed a place to go that wasn't going to offend his fiery girlfriend.

 _Still._

Blaise leaned on the kitchen counter by his muggle toaster, a fascinating contraption that he'd stolen from Pansy's flat. As the toaster heated up behind him, he eyed Harry openly.

The savior did not look so heroic when he was slouched on Blaise's kitchen chair, green eyes unfocused and probably thinking about whatever problems he had with Ginny Weasley (Blaise hadn't asked; he'd felt uncomfortable enough as it was). His black hair was unkempt and robes still ruffled from a day's worth of worth and heartbreak.

"You know," Blaise ventured to fill the silence. "Maybe you could help with dinner. It may make you feel better."

When Potter didn't answer, Blaise continued, "For example, I am just like my mother. When she is upset, she cooks. Like I am doing now." He gestured toward the toaster.

Potter stopped brooding to comment wryly, "If that is what you call cooking, Zabini, then you've got a lot to learn."

"By all means, insult me while I house you in my flat."

Harry leaned back. "I'm sorry. I'll leave soon. Hermione said she's getting home at nine."

"Granger, eh? Is she still dating Ron Weasley? Because he might try to get at you through her, you know. Not that I know of your problems," he added at Harry's glare. "It's just that those Weasleys are everywhere - I find it hard to imagine that you can avoid them all. If you solve your problems with the Weaslette, then that would be much easier for you."

Potter remained silent. Blaise hoped his toast would pop out soon because Potter was a horrible conversationalist when despondent.

But to his surprise, Harry suddenly stood and said, "You're right." His green eyes met Blaise's brown ones and he nodded firmly. "I'll talk to Ginny. Thanks, mate. I'll see you tomorrow."

And with no further adieu - maybe Potter was just a bad conversationalist in general - he Apparated away, evidently eager to get back with his redhead girlfriend.

Shaking his head in slight bemusement, Blaise turned to his toaster and grabbed a plate from the cupboard. It was a shame that Potter hadn't stayed to experience his cooking.


	5. Daphne Greengrass

**In love with this prompt.**

 **Day Five:** "Don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the whole street." _(Sherlock)_

* * *

"Daphne, may I ask where the hell you're taking me?"

"No. Hurry up."

She was obviously in a mood, thought Blaise as he sighed and hurried to catch up to the brunette. She was wearing dark red, for one - a grand indicator that she wanted to show off to the world her dark red anger. He mentioned this aloud through the cold night air as they made their way through the dim streets of Hogsmeade.

"Shut up," Daphne scowled as he thought she would.

"You're dragging me somewhere in the dead of night, and you won't tell me where," Blaise pointed out. "I think that I have a right to speak."

Daphne muttered something unflattering under her breath.

"Besides," he continued, holding back a smirk at her irritation (it was so _easy_ to rile her up). "Empty streets are for filling up. Look at this place! It needs my voice to fill up every corner -"

She glared at him and barked, "Zabini. Don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the whole street."

Grinning, Blaise followed her. If he was going to be dragged on some mysterious midnight rendezvous, at least it could be with someone whom it was extraordinarily easy to annoy.


	6. Millicent Bulstrode

**Hm this is a bit of a different view on Millicent Bulstrode than I'd originally planned but I like it.**

 **Day Six:** "We need to talk." / "Don't say that. When women say that, everything goes black, and I wake up surrounded by body parts." _(True Blood)_

* * *

"We need to talk."

"Don't say that," said Blaise without removing his eyes from his newspaper. He took a deliberate sip of his coffee. "When women say that, everything goes black, and I wake up surrounded by body parts."

"Hopefully yours. Put down the paper."

"I don't need to," he pointed out. "I already know who you are."

"Zabini!"

Blaise heaved a sigh and looked up. Millicent Bulstrode stood in front of him eyes narrowed in annoyance. She seemed to be frazzled - but for what, Blaise could not possibly imagine.

It was made clear when Millicent proceeded to spit out, "You cannot continue to board up at my flat any time you feel like it!"

"Is that what this is about?" Blaise closed the paper at an alarmingly slow pace; he saw how it irked her and made a point to fold every crease twice. "Because Millicent, I was under the impression you liked me being here."

"I don't. I really don't" she snapped, though her cheeks flushed a rosy red. She whipped around without another word, stomping into her kitchen.

He watched her silently, saw the way her brown hair was knotted at the nape of her neck, and the unstylish green cotton pajamas she wore. He wondered whether or not she knew why he came every week or so, if she knew that he could see she was lonely inside, no matter how many times she told him to leave.

He wouldn't. He wouldn't leave or stop coming, not unless he was certain that Millicent didn't want nor need him to be there. And watching her pad around in the only pair of slippers she owned, her eyes bloodshot and tired, Blaise wasn't sure that would be any time soon.


	7. Astoria Greengrass

**For anyone who has read the Infernal Devices series, I can't help but picture Tessa and Astoria being similar to each other!**

 **Day Seven:** "I ran into [insert name] in the hallway without his/her underwear on. P.S - congratulations." _(Sex & the City)_

* * *

From afar, the Greengrass sisters looked startlingly alike, from their wavy chestnut brown hair to their gray eyes and petite build. But sitting up close to Astoria, Blaise could see that the younger sister had a certain sweetness in her face that Daphne didn't. He hoped that that meant she had called him here to her and Draco's manor with kind intentions.

"You're likely wondering why you are here," said Astoria.

"It has crossed my mind, yes."

She, like her sister, didn't stall. Astoria leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "I want to ask you a favor. It's about Daphne."

"What about your incredible sister?"

Astoria plucked a scarlet invitation off her desk and handed it to him. "It's a dance," she explained. "I want her to be there but you know how she feels about parties and all that. If you could convince her to go, Blaise, I'd be so grateful. You, of course, are invited too."

Blaise paused then nodded. "She'll resist for certain, but I'll see what I can do."

"Oh, thank you!" Astoria sprang up, her hands clasped together like a young girl's. Really, Blaise could still not believe that this lovely, innocent woman had won Draco's stoic yet cocky heart so completely.

Speaking of innocence… He flashed a grin at her. "It's not a problem." He stood, adding casually, "By the way, I ran into Draco in the hallway without his underwear on." He winked at Astoria's horrified groan and red face. "Congratulations."


	8. Marcus Flint

**I had trouble thinking about what type of relationship Flint and Blaise would have, if at all. But this wormed its way out of me so sure, let's have Blaise have a secret and uncontrollable crush on the rogue Quidditch player ;)**

 **Day Eight:** "[insert name], master of the two-hour female orgasm." _(GTA V)_

* * *

"Marcus Flint." Blaise leaned back in his chair and smiled. "The master of the two-hour female orgasm."

Though he appreciated Flint's guffaw, Blaise did not miss the way that the Montrose Magpies coach gasped and reddened, her eyes narrowing at him. He was also not surprised; he was often told that he conducted his business in a most unprofessional manner. Yet Blaise was a good lawyer who didn't overcharge, and was from a respectable family, so it was without more than a glare that the coach gestured for him to continue.

"I hear you're in trouble," Blaise went on, being sure to maintain a smile. "And you want me to help you."

Marcus leaned back, mirroring Blaise's relaxed pose. He looked remarkably calm for someone charged with a cheating scandal that could cost him his position on the English Quidditch team.

"That'd be preferable," he agreed.

"And why would you think that I'd help you? I have a great demand of clients."

Something sparked in Flint's eyes then. He leaned forward and pressed his hands into the wooden table. "Because," he said slowly, meeting Blaise's eyes with a knowing look, "you won't refuse me."

Blaise stiffened. He wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his robes. It was hard to keep his voice neutral as he replied, "I can, you know."

The curved lip on the Chaser's face suddenly seemed hard, not friendly. "But you won't." And in a whisper, he said, with the air of someone who knew they had another person utterly under control, "I've always known it, Zabini."

Blaise believed him. And the next day, it was in the newspapers that Zabini had officially accepted the controversial Marcus Flint case. It didn't mention or know that it had only taken five words.


	9. Ginny Weasley

**Time for a cute Ginny/Blaise hehe.**

 **Day Nine:** "Alright, well I'm going to go now." / "I'm sorry. Was I not just in the middle of a story?" / "Yeah, but I wasn't really interested in it." _(The Most Popular Girl In School)_

* * *

The evening light painted Ginny Weasley's red hair in a fierce halo of orange-gold. Blaise swung a leg over his broomstick, eyes locked on the figure in the air as he kicked off.

The wind alerted her to his presence and she whipped her broom around, eyebrow quirked.

"Trying to sneak up on me?" Ginny smirked, an absolutely charming Slytherin-ish look on her face.

Blaise grinned. "You got me."

"You're late," she commented, tilting her head back to look up at him. He maintained eye contact with her even as he idly flew in slow circles around her.

"The boys ambushed me," he explained. "Somehow word got out that I was going to meet this wild Gryffindor girl, and so they basically pinned me down before I could leave the dungeons. Those traitors, Nott and Greengrass -"

Ginny cut in. "Alright, well I'm going to go now. Just a warning."

Blaise stopped and said mockingly, "I'm sorry. Was I not just in the middle of a story?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't really interested in it." At the look on his face, Ginny reached out to ruffle his hair. "Just kidding. But I'm really flying off, and watch this."

She took off, shooting straight up into the air before diving back down again. Blaise only crossed his arms and shook his head in amusement as she pulled up next to him, breathless with exhilaration.

"I've been trying to perfect my stops," she gasped, "since I saw it at the Magpies' game earlier this season -"

Without any warning, Blaise leaned across the air between them and captured her lips in a kiss. When they finally broke away, Ginny even more breathless and now red-faced, Blaise grinned and tweaked her nose.

"What?" he commented innocently. "I wasn't very interested in your story, either."


	10. Luna Lovegood

**Luna is a character I never tire of writing. She is amazing.**

 **Day Ten:** "I like watching ducks, feeding the ducks. I find ducks very relaxing." _(My Mad Fat Diary)_

* * *

Blaise had experienced several very odd things in life, but walking into the Prefect's bathroom to the quacking of ducks was perhaps one of the strangest of them.

He had been innocently looking forward to taking a bath - Draco had kindly (absentmindedly, more like) given him the password to the bathrooms. But he hadn't expected them to be occupied at this hour.

He hadn't expected to find _ducks._

He was staring at the assortment of ducks in the half-filled tub with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment when a soft, light, _feminine_ voice asked,

"Who's there?"

Blaise's eyes widened and he tightened the towel around himself as a petite wisp of a girl stepped out of the shadows.

"What the hell?" he yelled, scrambling away from the girl's calm and curious gaze. "What are - why are you _in_ here?"

Loony Lovegood looked at him as if he was crazy. "Because of the ducks. Would you like to feed them with me?"

She seemed utterly unperturbed by the fact that he was half-naked and trying to take a bath. She also didn't seem to find it strange that there were _ducks._ In the prefects' bathtub.

He was never going to ask Draco to give him the password to here again.

Blaise looked on in horrified fascination as Luna walked to the edge of the tub and began to feed the damn ducks. "I like watching ducks, feeding the ducks," she explained to him unnecessarily, "I find ducks very relaxing."

"You're not a prefect. And it's _midnight_."

"You aren't a prefect either." Luna looked at him curiously. "Why _are_ you in here?"

She wasn't being serious, was she? Blaise stared at her for a couple of moments before reaching out for his shirt. He was getting out of here. He was getting away from Luna Lovegood and her ducks before the quacks drove him crazy.

"Oh!" said Luna. She straightened up, realization dawning on her face. "You were going to take a bath."

"Yes," he snapped, waving his wand so that his clothes dressed him. "Not anymore."

She only smiled and extended a hand. "Come feed the ducks with me."

He gaped at her. She was really loony, wasn't she? He had never interacted with the blond Ravenclaw before, had only heard of her strangeness. He had to say that she more than lived up to the rumors.

"No thanks. Goodbye." Blaise spun around and left the bathroom, rather dazed with the sheer strangeness of it all. And as he crept back down the corridor, he made certain to check behind him, in the case that Luna Lovegood or her ducks had decided to follow him out.


	11. Draco Malfoy

**The Slytherins as kids makes me feel way too excited!**

 **Day Eleven:** "You once told me that calling me 'Satan' was an insult to Satan." / "Well, no one's perfect." _(The Vampire Diaries)_

* * *

Once, when he, Draco, and Theo had been young and running wild in the extensive grounds of Malfoy Manor, they had played a game of hide and seek.

Blaise remembered crouching behind a stone peacock, his stick-thin legs folded uncomfortably against the white stone. Games in the gardens could stretch on for hours, so he had brought a snack with him. He pulled his jelly beans out now, prepared to rest; last time he'd seen, Theo was running toward the other end of the garden in search for him and Draco.

He had barely eaten one jelly bean when he spotted a glint of platinum blond hair within the hedges. Perking up, Blaise hissed, "Draco!"

Draco peeped upward and lit up when he saw Blaise. Gray eyes shining mischievously, Draco, to Blaise's horror, tipped his head back and blared, "Can't catch me, Theo!"

Blaise's eyes widened. "Traitor!" he squeaked before jumping to his feet while Draco snickered and ran off to hide.

Blaise had only run about two steps before Theo came bursting out of the hedges. "Gotcha!" he proclaimed, eyes locking on Blaise and his Bernie's Botts beans.

He let out a great groan and stopped in his tracks, throwing a bean at Theo's triumphant expression. "That was all Draco," he felt the need to say. And when the blond popped out of the nearby line of tall flowers, he declared, "You are as bad as Satan!"

Not that six-year-old Blaise was entirely certain who Satan was, but that wasn't the point.

Draco smirked, already infuriating as a young boy. "You once told me that calling me Satan was an insult to Satan."

"Well, no one's perfect," Blaise grumbled before fixing an evil little smile on his face. "And you two better run because I'm going to get you!" He launched forward, beans spilling on the ground as Theo and Draco shrieked like they were girls and ran.


	12. Bellatrix Lestrange

**This is one of the ones I like more. Just Bellatrix is so intriguing.**

 **Day Twelve:** "You don't know me that well. My angry face and my happy face are the same." _(True Blood)_

* * *

The Malfoy Manor drawing room felt larger and longer than Blaise had ever known it to be.

He had been here many times as a child, even in the summers after Hogwarts, and to see the furniture pushed to the edge of the room, a long table in their place with the fire crackling sadly in the corner, made him shift in discomfort. He tried to look at Draco, who was walking beside him, but his friend stared stoically forward. The only sign that this bothered him, this strange coldness in his own house, was the clenched fists Draco held within the folds of his robes.

"Blaise Zabini," rang out a low female voice.

Blaise lifted his head and put on his most charming smile. "Madam Lestrange. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Hmph." Bellatrix Lestrange stood from the chair she had been sitting in, flicking her hand at the pudgy Death Eater who had brought Blaise and Draco here. Her inky black curls swept down her back as she eyed Blaise.

"Draco tells me that you're still second in your class."

Blaise dipped his head. "I am. Though Draco's catching up." (This was of course far from the truth, but she didn't seem to notice.)

"Right behind" - and here Blaise had to force himself to remain calm eye contact with Draco's aunt - "that mudblood Granger." He was saved from having to reply, because Bellatrix simply continued, "You've always been clever, Blaise. And handsome."

"So I've been told."

Blaise glanced at Draco again, who still stood stonily, his gray eyes dull as he stared at his aunt detachedly. Or maybe Draco was trying not to look at Blaise himself, because he knew just as well as Blaise did why he'd been invited over to Malfoy Manor by Bellatrix herself. There was hardly any other reason.

Like Bellatrix said, he was the second in his class. He was clever. Good-looking. Slytherin, and pureblooded. Already Vincent, Gregory, and Draco had been Marked, and Blaise knew Pansy's initiation date was coming up soon.

He was late to the party that he never intended to join.

And Bellatrix knew that very well. Her black eyes had fixed themselves upon him, hardening as she said slowly, deliberately, "You've been dragged here today, Blaise. I must admit I am disappointed. I wish you would have offered to come yourself."

"I wished to, but my mother was sick," he replied smoothly. "She sends her well wishes to you. Though you seem to be in perfect health as always, physically and emotionally."

Bellatrix smiled, a beautiful deadly smile that even made Draco flinch. "You don't know me that well. My angry face and my happy face are the same." She twirled her wand and stepped toward them. "For instance, I could be smiling right now but be, in reality, quite angry at you, Blaise Zabini."

The way you dealt with Bellatrix Lestrange was by not showing fear. So even though Blaise had the urge to flee, to do anything but stay here with a silent Draco and his deadly aunt, he only smiled.

"I'm glad we understand each other, Madam Lestrange."


	13. Theodore Nott

**Only one more after this! :(**

 **Day Thirteen:** "I don't run from monsters. They run from me." _(Once Upon a Time)_

* * *

"Blaise, mate." Theo Nott swung himself over the arm of the couch and snatched up the book that Blaise was reading.

"Excuse me," said Blaise, eyeing Theo lazily as he flipped through the book. "You'll lose my page."

But Theo had already lost it, and as he took in the content of the book, his face grew increasingly incredulous. "Don't tell me you're actually studying for Care of Magical Creatures?"

Blaise snatched it back, rolling his eyes. "Yes. We _do_ have O.W.L.s for it, you know."

"Mhm. Which will likely be to take care of the flobberworms that half-giant has. Not any of these" - Theo gestured toward the cover of the book, which read _Creatures and Monsters of Modern Times_ \- "monsters."

"Who knows? We might have to fight off a monster." Blaise grinned. "Prove ourselves to be more brave than Draco with his hippogriff."

Theo chuckled and slid down to the couch cushions. "Very true. I wouldn't want to run away from any creatures we might be presented with."

Blaise snorted. " _I_ don't run from monsters. They run from me."

"Which really doesn't explain why you've been alone in his corner, eh?"

He thwacked a smirking Theo on the arm with his book.


	14. Pansy Parkinson

**Blaise is one of my favorite characters in the HP world because I feel like there are so many sides to him. Here's to the last of the Blaise drabbles! Thanks for reading. :)**

 **Day Fourteen:** "I'd shag him until there was nothing left, just a pair of glasses and a damp patch." _(My Mad Fat Diary)_

* * *

"So, Pansy," said Blaise as he lounged on his living room armchair. "Exactly how did you get to be this drunk?"

"I drank," slurred Pansy, her head lolled on his glass coffee table. "I drank lots and lots."

"I realize," he replied wryly. "The question is _why_."

It was a very valid question, considering the fact that it was four a.m. and Pansy had recently Apparated herself into his loft, reeking strongly of wizard liquor. She was (he'd soon discovered) so drunk that it was a miracle of miracles that she hadn't Splinched herself apparating here.

She now lay half-sprawled on the floor, half on his table, her high heels resting on the rug. Her face was puffy, and she looked halfway to insanity.

"Oh, Blaise," Pansy exclaimed dramatically. "Blaise, Blaise, Blaise. You are so innocent."

The Italian snorted. "That's the first time a woman has ever said that to me."

She didn't appear to hear him. "I just wanted to see him," she continued dreamily. "I just wanted to find him. Then I'd could shag him until there was nothing left, just a pair of glasses and a damp patch."

"Who exactly are you talking about?" Blaise inquired, slightly alarmed.

"Drakey. Oh, Drakey. But he was already with another girl." Pansy suddenly looked frighteningly close to tears. "So I drank. I drank, I drank, I drank, drank, drank. And now I'm here."

Blaise rubbed his eyes. Why oh why did Draco and Pansy have to get into this situation so very late at night? "Salazar," he muttered. Standing, he moved the cushions off the sofa and grabbed some blankets. "Well. You can sleep here tonight," he informed Pansy's half-conscious form. "Just don't throw up all over my stuff."

"I won't," Pansy mumbled. "I'm already broken up inside."

He felt a pang of sympathy for her, and helped her onto the couch. After he positioned the blankets over her arms and legs, as Blaise turned to go back to his room, Pansy murmured, "Blaise?"

He stopped. "Yes, Pansy?"

There was a pause, then -

"I got it wrong. Draco doesn't have glasses, does he?"


End file.
